Pride and Legolas, Book the First
by QueenZenobia
Summary: Setting: Shortly after the War of the Ring. Main characters: Lady Narya, Prince Legolas, Aragorn, Arwen, and Gimli.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. Obviously.** _

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**The Choosing**

Far and wide across the land of Gondor could the tolling of the bells be heard. Not since the royal wedding of Lord Aragorn and Lady Arwen had the bells been made to chime so. Ding-dong! Ding-dong! They merrily announced throughout the realm that the Choosing had begun. By the end of the fortnight, mighty Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, son of King Thranduil, would have chosen his bride.

Joyous was all that land at this special occasion, in which another of the nine walkers would find marital bliss! Maiden eleths from every corner of Middle Earth had come to Gondor with the hope of becoming the blessed wife of the brave and noble hero of the War of the Ring.

One such she-elf held more hope than all others. Narya was her name, only daughter of Cirdan the Shipwright, Lord of the Falas, and in her eyes was the light of a thousand suns. Only once had she gazed upon the Prince of Mirkwood, and his beauty had moved her soul. Gladly would she spend her eternity by his side.

Due to her lineage and rank, Narya was favored among her companions by being lodged in the royal household. But the ringing of the bells had unsettled her in the guest tower, so she sought the King and Lady Arwen to ease her gentle spirit. She heard their voices on the balcony and approached, but stopped short. They were laughing in the presence of a third.

"How I loathe this day, Aragorn," he said bitterly. "The day my freedom is taken from me and my wings are cut before I chanced to see the world."

The royal couple laughed and Aragorn encouraged, "Come, my friend! You have a bleak view of marriage. I have been nothing but happy since the day I wed." And he lovingly took Arwen's hand in his.

"Our race would long have extinguished if all our males thought as you, dear Legolas," teased Arwen.

"I have no objection to the pleasures with which our race is propagated, Lady Arwen," answered the Prince sultrily. "But to the binding of a reluctant groom by hand and foot."

Aragorn's mirth continued, "Well, at least your eyes are not bound! Look upon your admirers and choose the lady that pleases you."

"I cannot be pleased with any of them, much less choose one. Aragorn, tell me this: What self-respecting she-elf would willingly throw herself into this competition. I should doubt if even one in that lot has an iota of intelligence."

"My friend," responded Aragorn, "I long for the day in the near future when I shall hear you say how wrong you were! But, come! The time has drawn near. Count yourself fortunate to have friends to aid you in this process."

"Yes," sighed Legolas. "I cannot do this without you, or Arwen, or the Dwarf. That is why I asked you to host the Choosing. Thank you, my friends. And now to the slaughter."

The King and Queen chuckled as they led their friend to the courtyard. Unaware were they of the trembling eleth that had heard the entire exchange. She flew to her quarters and, behind closed doors, she wiped away the stray tear that in her white hot anger had escaped from her eyes.

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 _ **Thank you for reading. Please Review!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: Please R &R.**_

 **Many Introductions**

A bright sun rose that morning promising the kingdom of Gondor a merry day. The people were giddy with excitement, for the Choosing had begun. Many delights were in store for all: great banquets and balls, sporting events, and good cheer. Even the children were waiting for the opening of the great carnival.

But Legolas arose with a heavy heart. To him the new day was just a continuation of the previous evening, when the formal introductions of the ladies had begun. His father's cruelty made him bitter with resentment. To force him to settle down and produce an heir! It was abhorrent!

Legolas made his way to the throne room and took his favored position between the King and Queen.

"Dignity," whispered Aragorn masking his mirth. "We should not give the impression that you would rather take a ship to Valinor than go through with this."

Legolas straightened his posture and assumed a proud stance, but his thoughts were at the Gray Havens, seeking Cirdan the Shipwright, begging him for his last journey on Middle Earth.

The morning grew old as lady after lady presented herself. Each was more beautiful and more accomplished than the previous one; each was dressed more exquisitely. A stray thought invaded his mind: why do they not present themselves completely in the nude? After all, what he was truly interested in was carefully hidden behind all those layers of clothing. He controlled his urge to burst into laughter, but the thought made his lips curl into a smile and the present lady mistook it to mean that he was pleased with her. She continued her lovely speech with a boost of confidence.

"Ah, this next Lady is my favorite," whispered Arwen. "Please give her a chance, Legolas." The Prince was uneager to acquiesce, but he nodded.

An impressive entourage approached and the announcement was made.

"Lady Narya, only daughter of the noble Cirdan the Shipwright, Lord of the Falas."

The irony was not lost on Legolas: that she should be the daughter of he who could end his present misery. Immediately, Legolas focused his attention on the noble eleth and judged her with open mind. Though not quite as handsome as some of the other ladies, she was fair, with honey brown hair that seemed bathed in sunlight. Something in her presence communicated the freedom of the seas. It was as if her aura came with an ocean spray and with filtered sunlight through blue waves. The hall was silent as she began her speech with clear voice.

"With the deepest respect, your humble servant wishes to address my lord, the King."

Legolas lifted his brow in surprise. All the ladies had addressed him. Equally surprised, Aragorn answered, "Speak, my lady, for greatly favored are you in my court."

"I wish to thank my lord the King and my queen Lady Arwen for such generosity and hospitality as I shall remember for ages to come. Greatly have I enjoyed the comforts of my tower and the food at your table."

Legolas looked at Aragorn and his eyes seemed to inquire, "Is she lodged at the palace?" Wonderful lodgings had been prepared for the ladies, but they were outside the palace gates.

"You are most welcome, Lady Narya." Something in her tone made Aragorn think this was a farewell speech.

"And now, Sire," she continued. Her presence was mighty and confident. "I must beg your leave with the deepest regrets."

A gasp and a murmur filled the audience. Leave? But why? After being thus favored by the king and queen?

Confused, Aragorn asked," You wish to leave, Lady Narya? Has something happened? May I ask what has not been to your satisfaction?"

She bowed her head respectfully and for the first time her voice faltered, "My lord the king must not think his servant found anything lacking. Rather, it is of my own accord that I wish to leave. I came here willing and happy, but since then I have acquired an iota of intelligence and have greatly reconsidered my self-respect. Hence I have decided that I should return at once to my home at the Gray Heavens and to the sea, whose sweet lullaby I greatly miss."

Aragorn and Arwen exchanged a knowing glance. So she had heard those unfortunate words! Legolas for his part felt as if a poison arrow had pierced his heart. He was awash with shame. But his stance grew ever more haughty and proud when he saw a flicker of amusement in her bright eyes. So she was enjoying his discomfort! He would not give her the pleasure!

"I see," said Aragorn.

Lady Narya continued, "If it pleases my lord, I shall remove to Dol Amroth and wait for my father at the port."

"But I have not summoned your father. It would take him three days to arrive."

"Begging your pardon, Sire, but I summoned him yesterday at sunset when I sent my birds to him."

Aragorn sighed. The Lady was quite determined to leave. And could he blame her? He glanced angrily at Legolas for having offended his guest. And of all people: the daughter of Master Cirdan. Aragorn had no choice but to comply. "Very well, my lady. But I shall beg for you to wait here at the palace and then allow me to escort you to Dol Amroth at his arrival."

She didn't like it one bit, but she knew that to reject his offer would be most ungracious. She bowed again and said, "My lord Aragorn is too kind. I accept your offer with all my heart."

At that the entourage egressed and Legolas was slighted by the fact that she did not even look at him or acknowledge his existence in any way.

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 _ **Author's Note: Thank you for reading, and thank you gginsc for your review.**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Tidings from Afar**

Next day Narya kept to her rooms; so unsettled was she by her dreams. Even now, upon her balcony she could close her eyes and see her mother's tormented face before she was taken from her.

"Naneth," she whispered into the wind and felt anew the grief that still burdened her. The hourglass of time passed by endlessly but the grief still remained, a tearless grief that dulled her heart.

Narya looked far across the land of Gondor towards the west, towards the sea, and wished for its comfort. "It won't be long now," she thought. But another voice inside her inquired, "Not long for what?" She was not sure and the thought gave her a chill, as if presaging some ill fate. These unwholesome thoughts kept her in solitude this day.

"Lady Narya!" cried an excited voice. Lyneth, her favorite lady in waiting had arrived. "Lady Narya!"

Narya drew a deep breath and, with the strength of her will, hid the unpleasant thoughts behind a smile, "I'm out here Lyneth, enjoying the sunset."

"Oh, such a day we have had! Pity you did not come, it would have been that much better with you to share the delights!"

Narya smiled at the young eleth's enthusiasm. "Then you must tell me everything."

Lyneth's eyes sparkled with joy. "Everywhere I looked there was something pleasing to the eye and to the palate. This country is so magnificent! I rode _Arod_ to my heart's content and I played polo with some very pleasant ladies."

"Glad to hear it, my dear," laughed Narya.

"Although…," Lyneth hesitated slightly, as if debating whether or not to say the next piece of information. She decided yes and continued, "Some of the ladies were ungracious towards you." She closed her mouth as if suddenly afraid of having chosen poorly.

"Oh, they were, were they?" laughed Narya. "And what did these ladies have to say. Speak freely, my dear."

"They called you impertinent and proud. They said that nothing in the world could have made them leave the Choosing. But I think a few were glad that you did. They feared you would be the favorite, since you were given lodging at the palace. They were quite dreadful!"

"I'm sure they were!" said Narya.

"Oh, and Gimli the Dwarf arrived. Now that I think of it, the news of his arrival was the only time I saw Prince Legolas smile. He bounded off to the palace like a young elf dismissed from his studies. One would think he is not enjoying the Choosing."

Narya smiled inwardly and changed the subject. "Where are you off to now?"

"To the banquet, of course! Are you not coming?"

Narya was about to answer when she spotted a black dot in the distant horizon. Her keen elf eyes knew it was coming in fast, against the wind. At last, understanding dawned on her and she cried, "Gwaihir! Gwaihir! He will bear tidings from my father!"

Narya quickly descended her tower and ran to the balcony of the Eagles. Lady Arwen, Legolas, and Gimli were already there. They greeted her politely, but her eyes were focused on King Aragorn, who was engaged in thought with Gwaihir. The Lord of Eagles handed Aragorn two letters. Aragorn broke the seal of the first and read it with furrowed brow. Even from several yards away Narya could see the seal of Cirdan the Shipwright and she smiled.

"Ada," she said merrily. But her smile faded when Aragorn glanced back at her with a troubled expression. He turned back to Gwaihir and bowed before him. With a great beating of his wings, Gwaihir took to flight.

"My lady, Narya," called Aragorn. "I'm afraid these tidings will not please you."

She took the sealed letter addressed to herself and said, "Then I will retire to my rooms, that I may grieve in privacy, if I must."

"As you wish," sighed Aragorn. They bowed to each other and she left.

Arwen went to his side, a question in her eyes.

"Her father refused her. He will not come. She must remain the fortnight."

"But why, Aragorn? She doesn't want to be here anymore than I do," said Legolas.

"And I wonder why she doesn't want to be here," replied Aragorn angrily. In light of the contents of Master Cirdan's letter he would have liked to spar a few rounds with his thoughtless friend.

"Whoa, laddy, what have I missed?" asked Gimli sensing the tension in the air. Only once had he seen Aragorn grow impatient with Legolas. It was just before the battle at Helm's Deep when he had despaired.

"You don't want to know, Gimli," replied Arwen.

"One day late," lamented the Dwarf. "One day late, and I miss something important."

"Please forgive my tone," said Aragorn placing a hand on Legolas' shoulder in their brotherly salute.

Legolas placed his hand on Aragorn's shoulder and said, "I am sorry to have offended your guest. Truly."

"Please, talk to her. Perhaps tomorrow. She will be cross and unforgiving, but perhaps she has reason to be. I cannot reveal to you the nature of her discomfort, but I will say this: she is a pure and noble lady. She deserves more from all of us."

Legolas was surprised at the comment. His eyes wandered to Master Cirdan's letter, but Aragorn put it away in his pocket.

"Come, the banquet will begin shortly." They filed out of the Balcony of the Eagles and made their way to the banquet hall.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Bow of Lothlorien**

 _My Dearest One,_

 _Merry had my heart been to think of your joy at the festivities of Gondor, for your happiness is my life's desire. And I imagined the gift of your smile illuminating all in King Aragorn's court. How grieved was I to receive your urgent request! And even more grievous is the fact that I am unavailable to rescue you, my child. Alas! For I am away to Valinor._

 _I have sent news of your unhappiness to your brothers at the frontier, but I fear that even if they left their regiments immediately, they should not be back until well passed the fortnight. You must hold fast until my return. May your wisdom help you to ease your present discomfort, whatever its cause. Please, be happy, dear one, for you are young and beautiful, and in this time of renewed joy, Middle Earth should be your bliss._

 _Elbereth be with you, my daughter._

Narya read her father's letter once and again with new emotions each time. His love warmed her heart, yet between the lines she could sense his disappointment and worry. But why should he worry about her so?

She was also puzzled. Long ago she expressed to her father her wish to accompany him to Valinor next time. She smiled when she remembered the uneasiness expressed on his face, to which she quickly stated, "I will return with you to Middle Earth, of course. I'm just curious about the journey and would like to keep you company." He had assented with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

Now he was away without her. It would have taken months to prepare for the journey, but he said nothing about it. And now that she thought of it, he seemed much too eager to send her away to Gondor for the Choosing. Why?

She sighed deeply, and as sleep overcame her, she wondered how she would endure her time at the palace with the insufferable Prince Legolas strutting like a peacock. But she had to try. "For you, Ada," she whispered.

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The bright morning's beauty lifted Narya's spirits and she announced, "Lyneth, I believe I shall join you today. Where are you off to?"

"Oh, my lady!" squealed the maiden in delight. "First we shall see an archery contest in the western fields. Then the ladies will be taught to shoot at the targets. It will be such fun!"

"Then you shall lead the way!" said Narya and she dressed for a day of delights under the sun.

It was a pleasant walk through the western fields that plateaued over the crops. This year's bounty had been generous and Narya silently gave thanks to the Valar. The happy thoughts and exercise invigorated Narya and colored her features as she chatted with her ladies in waiting.

As the party approached the ridge, they heard laughter and cheering. But the top of the ridge offered a beautiful sight to behold. Next to a lake of shining waters, the ladies lounged like queens on the greenest grass Narya had ever seen. Their magnificent dresses made every color of the spectrum glow under the sun.

Narya made her way to a spot near the lake. She was immediately offered a blanket to sit on the grass and refreshment. She noticed some of the ladies looking her way and whispering. To her surprise, she found the attention amusing.

On the opposite ridge the archery contest was in progress. Twelve participants extended their bows and released their arrows which struck their targets many yards away. Narya could not help but notice the Prince of Mirkwood's magnificence with his golden tresses swaying in the wind as he skillfully handled the Bow of Lothlorien.

The targets were judged and Legolas was declared the winner of the round. The crowd cheered again and his lips curled into a smile. Though determined not to enjoy the Choosing, he could not hide his love for this event.

The next round was announced and Legolas reloaded his bow.

"What is your advice, Gimli?" he asked.

"For once in your life hit the target, laddie," mocked the Dwarf.

Legolas put down his bow and looked at Gimli in the eye, "Have I ever told you what a terrible archery attendant you are?"

They both laughed and just before retaking his position, Legolas saw her. She was at the edge of the lake with her bare feet in the water. The hem of her dress got wet as she fed the swans the rest of her sandwich. He saw her laugh and caught himself straining to hear the sound.

"What is it?" asked Gimli following his line of sight. "Ah, yes. She arrived some time ago. Happy she seems."

When Narya once again focused her attention on the contest, her eyes locked with his and Legolas believed he saw her blushing.

"Come now, Legolas. Focus on the target," said Gimli. "You are only one stroke in the lead. With this one, you will win. But without it, you must actually compete."

Legolas lifted his bow and aimed. He measured the speed and direction of the wind, but just before releasing the arrow he heard a laugh and wondered if it was Narya's. There was a sound of surprise from the crowd as the arrow missed the target completely, and Legolas muttered a curse under his breath.

"Did you not hear what I said?" Gimli spat out.

"I heard you plainly," answered Legolas impatiently.

"Then what is the problem? If this were a battle we would both be dead."

"It is her."

"Who?"

"Narya, daughter of Cirdan the Shipwright. She unnerves me. Clearly."

Gimli lifted his brow and asked, "And why is that?"

"I do not know," replied Legolas in frustration.

"Do you think she is pretty?"

"She is beautiful, but that is beside the point!"

"No matter," said Gimli. This was definitely a topic to explore fully, but at the right time. "Forget her, for now. I will not be known as the attendant for the famous archer who lost a competition in his own Choosing."

Legolas smiled and said, "You really are a terrible archer's attendant."

* * *

He missed! Arrogant as it seemed, Narya couldn't help but think that she had something to do with his momentary loss of concentration. But what did it mean? Surely his dislike for her was greater than she realized. She would be sure to steer clear of him.

"Lady Narya, it is finally our turn!" cried Lyneth. She excitedly pulled Narya to her feet and they followed the crowd to the archers' ridge. Every maiden wanted a turn with the Bow of Lothlorien. Many practically clawed their way to the Prince of Mirkwood, winner of the competition. But Narya turned aside to another archer, Calanon of Lindon. Forlorn for having achieved last place in the competition, his face lit up when a lady requested his instruction. He gentlemanly taught Narya how to hold the bow, place the arrow, and release it.

Even as he spoke with the ladies, from the corner of his eye, Legolas watched Lady Narya and Master Calanon. He hated how, in his over-active imagination, they made a fine couple. Then he angrily thought, "I should be the one to teach her."

Legolas held his breath when Lady Narya lost her balance and Master Calanon held her up. Gimli noticed the Prince's displeasure and asked, "What is wrong?"

Legolas whispered harshly, "Make him unhand her!"

Gimli was about to ask who, but then he remembered Narya. "Right."

Thinking fast, Gimli stood on a boulder and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen. I am told that our lunch is ready. We can all make our way to the banquet hall now."

Gimli noticed that Narya had moved away from Master Calanon and he winked at Legolas.

"As usual, thinking with your stomach," laughed Legolas.

"I believe you are confusing me with the hobbits," replied the Dwarf.

* * *

The crowd inched its way back to the palace, but Narya remained at the lake of shining waters. It had been difficult to convince her ladies to go on without her, but she was quite determined. When she felt that she was alone, she made her way back to the archers' ridge and rejoiced to see that the Bow of Lothlorien had been left behind with the others. She wondered at this oversight. Had it been hers, she would never part with it even for a second.

Narya carefully observed it, bewitched by its beauty. Long had this bow and its owner sparked her imagination as her father told her the stories of the War of the Ring. She dared to touch it. Smooth and cold was it. Blond were the elf hairs with which it was strung. She picked it up and was amazed by its light weight. And she was suddenly overwhelmed by a desire to shoot an arrow with it.

With untrained fingers she selected an arrow from the quiver. All her thoughts were concentrated on loading the arrow and following the steps she had just learned. She did not notice the amused elf that leaned against a nearby tree inwardly celebrating this unexpected turn of events. He had returned for his bow, and what should he find but the proud Lady Narya caught unawares.

He chose an unfortunate moment to speak. She was about to release the arrow when he said, "My lady." Lady Narya cried out in alarm as she released her arrow.

"Elbereth," he screamed out as the arrow pierced his forearm and bounced to the ground.

"Prince Legolas," she cried out wide-eyed and was immediately by his side.

He slid to the ground and grabbed her hand, whispering, "Lady Narya."

"Speak, my lord!" she pleaded in despair, hot tears blinding her.

"I must die now."

"Die? But it can't be! Oh, Elbereth!" she pleaded frantically. Perhaps the arrow was bathed in poison. What to do?

"May I have your permission to say something to you?"

"Of course, my Prince! You may say whatever you must."

"I can tell you were taught by the worst archer in Gondor!"

And in a split second, her grief turned to anger. She pushed his hand away as Legolas laughed heartily.

"You are despicable!" she seethed while Legolas was nearly rolling over with laughter.

Lady Narya gathered her skirts, the edges of which were still wet, and stormed away.

"Wait! How can you leave me here like this? I'm bleeding," he called to her.

"I hope you bleed out!" she called back and he started another laughing bout.

She angrily walked away as he laughed, "Help me! An archer never leaves the victorious wounded behind!"

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 _ **From the Author: Thank you for reading! And thank you to those of you following and favoriting. I'm happy that you're enjoying the story!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thank you for your reviews Zip001, gginsc, and Raider-K. Your positive energy keeps me going.**_

 _ **I also received negative thoughts from a guest reviewer. :( Apparently my story would make Tolkien turn over in his grave. LOL! But this is just for fun, and I'm really enjoying the writing process. So don't be so serious!  
**_

 _ **Here's the next chapter.**_

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 **Lady Narya and Prejudice**

It had been a very long time since Legolas had laughed so heartily. In fact, perhaps he had never laughed so. But the mirth passed and the throbbing of the puncture wound, though superficial, brought him back to reality.

"Idiot!" he muttered angrily to himself. He cursed his stupidity as he jumped to his feet and bounded after her. She was at the lake hastily gathering her belongings.

"Lady Narya!" he called out.

She was furious, most of all at herself for having put herself in this humiliating situation. Why had she succumbed to curiosity? She should never have touched the blessed bow. Now she had to endure his exultation.

But she would not add insult to injury. She knew she could not outrun him or keep an angry pace during the entire two-mile walk to the palace. Best to deal with him as elegantly and as dignified as possible. She turned to face him and it took all of her self-control to not scream ungracious words at him.

Legolas hurried to her and the fire in her eyes was all the more frightful behind her subdued exterior.

"Please, forgive me, my lady," he begged and bowed low before her. "I meant no harm. Truly."

Well, she had definitely not expected an apology. This was not the haughty prince of a few moments ago. He was humbled and there was a smudge of dirt on his clothing and he was bleeding.

"How can I make it up to you?" He quickly glanced at her and was relieved to see that her expression had softened slightly. He ventured a joke, "That is, besides bleeding out, although I deserve it."

"You do deserve it," she said with a small smile.

"Perhaps I can teach you to shoot my bow? That way you can kill me properly next time."

She laughed openly now and the sound made his heart leap.

"Yes, I would like that."

"To learn the bow or to kill me?"

They both laughed.

"Please, allow me a minute to dress my wound."

"I really am sorry, Prince Legolas." She was mortified at having shot him.

"Please, do not apologize to me. I do not deserve it."

Well, finally, their first agreement!

He knelt by the lake and washed away the blood. Then he ripped some fabric off his tunic –his royal garments of fine linen, which he seemed to care nothing about– and dressed the wound.

"There," he said merrily. "As good as new. Shall we return to the archers' ridge? I would very much like to use the targets."

She started off in that direction and said, "You're just afraid I'll keep using you as a target." The words escaped her mouth before she could censor them. And her tone had been decidedly flirtatious.

"Very true," he retorted, greatly enjoying the turn their conversation had taken. She was pleasant and he was determined to show her what a gentleman he was.

The afternoon passed all too quickly in their sport. What Lady Narya lacked in natural ability she made up with in determination. It gave her a thrill to hear first-hand the story of the Bow of Lothlorien. And the way he made the arrows sing from his bow made her fear the brave warrior inside him.

"You are an excellent student, Lady Narya," offered Legolas. "Tomorrow I shall teach you to shoot while riding."

Her surprised expression made him chuckle. "Do you think I could do it?"

"I know you can," he assured.

"Then let us try right now!"

"So eager!" he laughed. "I would love to, but we have no horse. And I think our absence has been noticed. Look." He nodded towards the lake and sure enough three Riders of Gondor were approaching. "Will you come to the banquet tonight? Please, my lady, it would be my honor."

And since he asked so sweetly, and since the setting sun behind him made him glow so beautifully, Lady Narya nodded.

* * *

"My friend, please be easy. She will come!" laughed Aragorn.

The ladies were filling the banquet hall, and Legolas would strain his neck to see if Lady Narya was among them. "How do I look, Arwen?" he asked nervously.

"Like a prince," she smiled and she glanced at Aragorn to remind him of some uncomfortable task he must perform.

"Legolas, there is something I need to tell you about Lady Narya," started Aragorn but then he faltered. "More of a warning, I should say. She is not a toy for you to play with and discard when you are tired of her."

"Really, Aragorn? Is that what you think of me?" laughed Legolas, but his smile faded when he realized his friend had not spoken in jest.

"She is here under my protection and I must render an account to her father if she is hurt in any way. And she is a maiden…"

"Let me stop you right there, Aragorn. What kind of a monster do you take me to be?"

"Not a monster, but a war veteran who has lost his way."

"Lost my way? Gimli, are you hearing this?"

The Dwarf looked away and remained silent.

"Then speak plainly," he said angrily. "How have I offended you?"

"Not me, but your own kingdom. It is a decade after the war and you refuse to take responsibility for your people."

"I gave my life for my people!" he retorted.

"As did we all," interjected Gimli. "But what are you doing for them now? You should be leading them, instead you are living selfishly as a bachelor?"

"Imitating the ways of fallen men, rather than the ways of our people," said Arwen.

"Think about this ridiculous Choosing. This is what your father had to do to make you think about marriage. And if you fail to choose a wife here, he has selected your bride in Mirkwood."

Legolas was at a loss for words at this intervention. He rose suddenly and said, "Forgive me, but I need some air."

Lady Narya was stirred with excitement. She peered at her reflection for the tenth time and wondered what it would feel like to be the Prince's favorite this evening. She thought of their afternoon together and smiled. His touch had been electrifying when he placed his hand on her waist to afford her balance. And then again when he touched her fingers to show her how to place the arrow on the string. Would he touch her tonight? She giggled at her own stupidity and left her rooms escorted by her ladies.

The banquet hall was well-lit and warmed by many fires. It was lavishly decorated in the fashion of Rivendell, Lady Arwen's home. Narya was led to the royal table as the musicians played a lovely tune. The King and Queen warmly greeted her, as did the Dwarf, but Legolas was nowhere to be found. Even when the food was served and cleared he did not arrive. Even when the dancing started he did not come. With a heavy heart she politely made small talk with those around her, including the dreadful dwarf.

A waltz began and Narya became aware of a presence behind her. She looked back and saw Legolas extend his hand to her. "Care to dance, Lady Narya?" he asked. Her heart had leapt like a child and she had already nodded her assent when she noted that he was not the charming elf of this afternoon. He was the haughty Prince she hated. He led her to the dance floor without as much as looking at her. And to think that she had taken extra care for him? She felt a slow blazing anger color her features. But she was unsettled by the electricity of his touch as he held her to dance.

"Are you just now arriving?" she asked assuming an aloof disposition.

"Yes," he replied without further explanation.

"Forgive me, but where I come from a gentleman arrives on time when he has asked a lady to a banquet."

He met her gaze and saw the challenge in her eyes. "Then I must take note of the manners and customs of the Gray Havens before acting."

Hateful elf! They danced in silence until he asked, "Am I to understand that you don't like my friend, Gimli? I notice your disdain when you glance upon him."

She remained silent, unprepared for this conversation.

"May I ask why? Or are you unable to explain your prejudice?"

She shot him a piercing look. "It is not prejudice, but fact."

"Forgive me for not discerning what you so plainly see. Perhaps you can explain it to me in terms that I may understand."

"They are children of a lesser god," she said with finality.

"And by _they_ you mean the Dwarves."

"Yes, the murderers of our King Thingol, who alone of the Children of Iluvatar married the maia Melian."

"And still," he spoke harshly into her ear, for he had pulled her body alarmingly close to his. "You owe your freedom to him."

The waltz ended and he walked away. She brought her hand to the trail of goose bumps under her ear where his breath had razed her skin.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts...**_

 _ **Have a great week and see you next weekend!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Thank you for your reviews. It is so exciting to receive them! And thank you to my new followers and favoriters. It is an honor to have your company.**_

 _ **Truth Be Told**_

Lady Narya was too unsettled to sleep. She hated Prince Legolas with every fiber of her being! How he held out his hand to her, as if certain that she could never refuse him. And she hadn't! It made her senseless with rage. And how dare he arrive so late? He was so uncivil! She thought of a hundred things she could have told him.

But prominent among her turbulent emotions was a feeling that she could not explain, a thought that greatly troubled her. Until she was finally able to identify it: she cared what he thought of her! Prejudiced, he called her! And she was unable to defend herself. It plagued her that he had a poor opinion of her. But why should it matter? And this realization made her even more uneasy. She had to set the record straight. But how?

And then there was the other matter: the way her body responded to his touch. She relived the moment when she had felt him so close to her, when he had whispered into her ear. She was mortified to realize that she longed to feel him again. But that would not do! So Lady Narya tossed and turned in her bed until the night grew old.

* * *

"Legolas, I knew I would find you here." Aragorn approached his friend at the archer's tower of the first battlement.

Feeling miserable, Legolas responded, "Aragorn, it is late, and I'm sure you would rather be enjoying your wife's attentions."

"That is true," replied the King with a smile. "But first I would have a drink with my friend." He poured two cups of elven ale. "What shall we toast to?"

Legolas cast him a bitter look, but Aragorn was not deterred. "Ah, I know: To better days. May they be swift to arrive and slow to depart."

Legolas finally smiled and drank his ale. "You are indeed a healer. I feel better already."

"Glad to hear it."

"I was speaking to the ale," said Legolas in an attempt at humor. They sat together in companionable silence until Legolas said, "I feel lost, Aragorn."

"I know it, Legolas. Do not think you are the first to feel this way."

"How did you recover… from the war?"

"I became a husband, a king, and a father to my people. For a long time, the well-being of others is what kept me going."

"And now?"

"I have found peace… with myself and with the war."

"The war," sighed Legolas. "It changed me, I realize it now. All my previous beliefs, my spirituality, my virtue seemed pointless after witnessing so much death. After causing so much death."

Aragorn sighed heavily. "Yet you fought the war because of those beliefs and virtues, Legolas. You must return to them."

"I do not know how."

"You will find your way. I have faith in you."

The clouds shifted in the velvet sky to reveal a sliver of a moon that had risen high, casting a faint glow on the quiet countryside.

"So," said Aragorn with amusement. "Lady Narya."

Legolas could not stop the smile that spread on his face. Aragorn laughed and commented, "That one is quite spirited."

"You have no idea," replied Legolas suddenly aware of the wound on his forearm.

"There is something about her that you should know." Aragorn debated whether or not to continue. Finally he took out a letter from his pocket and gave it to his friend. Legolas recognized the seal of Cirdan the Shipwright. "Read it and you will understand her in a new light. Goodnight, my friend."

"Goodnight, Aragorn."

The king took his leave and Legolas immediately opened the letter. The elegantly written Sindarin characters read:

 _To King Elessar Telcontar_

 _Year 11 of the New Age_

 _Cirdan the Shipwright, Lord of the Falas_

 _Dear Lord Aragorn,_

 _With a torn heart I write you this letter on behalf of my beloved daughter, the Lady Narya. She has requested her immediate removal from Gondor, for reasons not disclosed to me, yet I am unable to come to her aid. I have sent word to her brothers serving at the frontier near Mirkwood. They are coming for her, but I must prevail upon you to keep her safe until their arrival, and to keep her away from the sea. My dear friend, you may wonder at my request, and I will now relate to you some personal circumstances that will help shed light on the matter._

 _As you know, before the War of the Ring, my family had long been engaged in battle with the Valar's greatest enemy, he whose name shall not be spoken. And in the Last Battle for the Falas, my first-born was slain. Alas for my beloved wife, who nearly died of grief. But she held fast a while longer, for the sake of Narya, who was only a babe. Yet she would never recover._

 _Narya was still quite young when she witnessed her mother's fall, and understood it to be some terrible accident. Only recently has she discovered that her mother purposely sought the Halls of Mandos to end her grief. Ever since that day I have lived with this dread: that my only daughter should seek the shores of Valinor at such a young age, before she has had a chance to truly live on Middle Earth, before she has loved. So I sent her away to Gondor under pretext, and hid from her my fifth journey to Valinor._

 _Forgive me for burdening you with this information and for imposing on your hospitality. Guard my sweet, gentle-souled daughter as if she were your own and know that I will always be in your debt._

 _Yours faithfully._

Legolas read the letter in an agitated state. He closed his eyes as his heart beat violently. If only he could take back every unkindness he had subjected her to! The beautiful, yet troubled Lady Narya. How he wished he could gather her in his arms, and with his love, make her forget all her sorrows. He reached under his tunic for the sapphire ring on his chain. Pure blue, like the color of her soul. And he wondered when would be the best time to give it to her.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_


	7. Chapter 7

**_Here is a new chapter. Hope you enjoy it!_**

* * *

 **An Afternoon Lesson**

Lady Narya woke late next day with only one desire, to make her way to the lake of shining waters and enjoy the day in solitude. She learned the schedule of events through Lyneth and was pleased to know that she would be undisturbed in the western fields. After a quick brunch, she had a basket made and she set out under a bold, mid-day sun.

She walked leisurely through the fields, occasionally stopping to enjoy the view. Busy as ants, the workers merrily gathered the crops. They sang happy tunes and offered a "My lady" with a polite bow when they chanced to see her, to which she responded with a curtsey and a "Kind sir." So she was in very good spirits when she put down her basket and spread her blanket upon a delightful spot at the lake's shore.

But suddenly her senses were alerted to a horse's snort. She had not yet fully turned when a figure dropped out of a nearby tree with a demanding, "Look who is late today!"

She nearly screamed in fear, but immediately recognized the intruder.

"I have been waiting here all day," informed Legolas coolly.

Narya was taken completely by surprise. When she finally found her voice, she cried, "What on Middle Earth are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the tournament!"

"Nay, I'm supposed to be teaching you to shoot the bow while riding. Is it common courtesy in the Gray Havens to miss an appointment?"

She felt the familiar blaze of anger. This insufferable elf consistently brought out the worst in her. "Your incivility last night led me to believe our appointment was nullified!"

"I must beg your pardon for that, my lady," he pleaded with repentant eyes. "I received difficult news and knew not how to react, not to say that is an excuse. I was most abominable to you and I apologize."

She had no idea what to say. Once again, his humble apology had completely disarmed her.

"Am I forgiven?" he asked with a smile that nearly took her breath away.

"I shall think about it," she smiled back and he knew all was forgiven.

"So why are you here, if not to meet me?"

She felt a sudden urge to open her jar of lemonade and pour it over his head. With difficulty she resorted to gently asking, "Do you not see the beauty around us? Could it not be possible that I came here to enjoy this wonderful place?"

He looked around as if seeing it for the first time. "Yes," he responded happily. "Yes, it is quite possible. It is truly lovely here."

"Ah, my friend has arrived!" laughed Narya and the chime of her voice filled Legolas with wonder. An elegant swan made his way to shore and called her. She quickly found a sandwich in her basket and approached the white beauty. Entranced Legolas watched as she removed her shoes and stepped into the water. She sweetly coaxed the swan to let her touch him. Her skirts were at least six inches in the water, but she didn't mind. "Come, my lord." She offered Legolas a piece of bread to feed the swan.

"I don't know," doubted Legolas.

"Come! He is very friendly."

Legolas approached and took the piece of bread from her hand. He fed it to the swan who greedily gulped it down. They both laughed and Legolas was awe-struck by her aura. He realized that her beauty was like the sunrise: first a faint glimmer that promises a new day, then the gradual revelation of full light, whose might is wrought with a bright, clean beauty like no other. How could he not have seen it before? He stared at her in wonder until she grew uncomfortable.

"What are you looking at, my lord?" she asked.

"I'm looking at you, my lady," was his bold reply.

She smiled shyly and he fought the urge to claim her lips. Instead, he invited, "Shall we begin our lesson?" And he summoned _Arod_.

Lady Narya became apprehensive and said, "Prince Legolas, I am ill at ease about this. I don't think…"

She was interrupted by the mounted prince offering his hand to her, "Come, Lady Narya. It is easier than you think."

"You wish me to ride with you?" she asked with a nervous laugh.

"It is the only way to safely teach you."

"I am afraid I cannot. It would not be proper."

"Then, I am glad that we are alone." He winked mischievously and extended his hand once again.

She stared at his hand knowing that she would take it. She felt displaced, as if watching herself from afar. Then in a swift, fluid motion she grabbed his hand and mounted _Arod_ behind the Prince.

"Very good," he cheered. "You have some skill on horseback." This would have been the moment to say that she enjoyed riding, but she was speechless.

"You must put your arms around me." He hid his joy when he felt her delicate hands hesitantly touch his waist. And he could not avoid a smile when he said, "I am afraid that is not strong enough. You will fall, my lady."

She carefully slid her arms around his waist and now with her nose in his hair she could not stop herself from breathing in deeply. His essence filled her, woodlands and musk. And her heart beat wildly.

"That's better," he said. "Let's ride. Get a feel for _Arod_." He gave the command and _Arod_ started a slow trot.

"Feel his muscles under you as he moves. You will predict his movements and achieve greater balance." But Narya hardly heard the instructions because she was so engrossed by new sensations. The Prince's hair was so soft. The muscles on his back were so tight. "Let's go faster." He gave the command for _Arod_ to gallop and Narya held on even tighter. And when he brought his arm to cover hers, she allowed it to remain so.

They rode swiftly into the wind, neither one wishing it to end, both feeling that they had never experienced such joy.

* * *

 ** _Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think!_**


	8. Chapter 8

T _ **hank you for reading, if you're still with me. I hope you enjoy the new chapter!**_

* * *

 **Marry Me**

Narya let the hot bath relax every aching muscle and limb. She and Legolas had not given up until well passed noon, when her arrow struck the target. The lesson had been physically demanding, but her will power had been rewarded with success. She smiled remembering his surprise and his effusive congratulations. But her smile faded and her heartbeat quickened when she thought of their parting moment. At the palace he had offered her his hand to dismount. And since his fingers lingered on hers, he felt the bruises.

"What is this?" he asked alarmed while examining her palm and fingers. "My lady, these hurts are from the bow. Why did you not say anything? I would have stopped the lesson immediately."

"Oh, do not worry," she responded. "It does not hurt… much."

"How can I not worry? Your soft, delicate hands… Tomorrow they shall be quite callused."

She was starting to tell him that she would be fine, and to think no more of it, but he unexpectedly brought his lips to her hand and gently kissed each red mark. Then he summoned a healer and said, "I shall see you tended to."

The healer brought Narya some _Athelas,_ which she applied to her steaming bath and it helped not only her bruises but her whole body and her mind. She felt so relaxed and at ease. But the memory of the Prince's mouth on her skin made her feel flustered. She giggled in delight. Oh, the new sensations he made her feel!

But this was dangerous. Narya could not trust her judgement when she was with Legolas. His smile, his touch, his smell, his voice… all morning they had slowly intoxicated her, until he had brazenly kissed her hand, and she had allowed it. Yes, this was very dangerous. She decided that she would no longer allow herself to be alone with him. Yes, that was the path of wisdom.

"Lyneth," she called quickly, lest she should change her mind. The young maiden entered the bathing room and Narya instructed, "Tonight I have an appointment with Prince Legolas. You will come with me, and no matter what I say, you will _not_ leave us alone."

* * *

Queen Arwen's private garden was awe-inspiring in its beauty. And bathed in the bright moonlight it was reminiscent of the ancient elven kingdoms now vanished from Middle Earth. Lady Narya and Lyneth made their way through the hidden path to the pavilion where the waiting Legolas was seated on a stone bench. He was studying the heavens, enraptured by the beauty of Menelmacar the Swordsman. The silver light flowed upon the Prince, clad as he was in regal white garments, and made him glow. The sight made Narya stare at him in wonder.

"My lady," he called when he caught sight of her. His eyes revealed unbridled pleasure at her arrival. But then he saw Lyneth and asked unkindly, "And who is this?"

"This is Lyneth, my lady in waiting."

"I wished for us to be alone," he replied sharply.

"I am a maiden, my lord, and it would be improper to come unchaperoned to this secret place."

"Of course," he finally understood. "Forgive me for not thinking of the protection of your virtue. It should be foremost in my mind."

"There is nothing to forgive. A lady's reputation is her own to protect." And then she asked Lyneth to wander through the garden enjoying its delights but to stay within sight. The young eleth departed with a curtsey and a wide smile. She wondered when and how her lady and the Prince had fallen in love.

Legolas extended his hand to Narya and when she placed it in his they both felt a magnetic pull, a spark, a force of attraction that they had never experienced. Surely, the Valar had just blessed this union.

He turned her hand over and with his finger traced the lines on her palm. "Your hand has healed," he said with satisfaction, unaware that the simple action was wreaking havoc on her nerves.

"Yes, the _Athelas_." She attempted to reply with a steady voice. She withdrew her hand from his and sat down. "It is a lovely evening, perhaps the most beautiful I have ever seen."

"My lady, I can no longer restrain myself," he said fervently. "There is something very particular I should like to tell you, if you would allow it."

Narya's heartbeat raced in anticipation. "Speak your mind, Lord Legolas."

"Nay, it is not my mind!" he laughed. "It is my heart."

"Then speak your heart," she encouraged.

"My lady, I am in love with you. And I wish nothing more than to be joined with you in marriage."

Narya felt a flutter in her chest as Legolas looked upon her with such passionate eyes. She laughed with joy. "I hardly know how to respond! I cannot believe it!"

"Nor can I!" He rose to his feet and paced as he spoke. "I don't know how this happened! To think that I would actually select a bride at this absurd Choosing. But my father was right! If I am to receive my fiefdom, I need a wife. And how pleased King Thranduil will be with my choice: a high Lady, daughter of the Lord of the Falas."

Her smile faded as she listened. Narya had never received a marriage proposal, but she knew these were not the right words. Her joy and ecstasy slowly came crashing down. Oblivious to her reaction, the Prince continued, "There is of course the issue of your prejudice. We constantly deal with Dwarves at Mirkwood, so we would have to work with that as soon as possible. But for now it can be overlooked. And then there is the matter of your mother's death."

At the mention of her mother, Narya grew cold.

"I imagine that not many know the truth of her exit from this world. We shall have to keep it that way. And…" He stopped short when he glanced at her and saw her pale features and the fire in her eyes. "My lady?"

"Alas! You have run away with yourself and you forget that I have not answered. And so Mighty Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, I must decline your offer of marriage."

Her features and expression revealed that she would not be swayed. Shocked, he said in a trembling voice, "I see. And may I ask why you reject me with such incivility?"

She was on the verge of losing herself to wrath, but she held fast to her upbringing as a lady. "Did you believe I would accept the hand of he who holds my beloved mother in such derision?" He watched in horror as hot tears fell from her eyes. Dumbfounded he quickly reviewed his words looking for the offending speech, until he realized what he had said.

"Oh, Elbereth!" he cried. "I did not mean anything by it!" What could he say now? He desperately racked his brain for an explanation, for anything to take back that unfortunate moment. But there was nothing to be done.

"Nothing more needs to be said. We are done! Good evening!" She rose to her feet holding back a great onslaught of emotion. She only desired to flee from the garden, from the palace, from Middle Earth if it were possible.

"Lady Narya, please!" he said desperately. "I love you."

"Nay, you do not, my Lord, because you only love yourself. And I would rather seek the Halls of Mandos than marry you!" She ran now, as swiftly as her feet would carry her, as far from him as possible. She would forever remember that night for two reasons: because she finally found her tears and because she heard the sea calling her to the Undying Lands, calling her home to Valinor.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading. This chapter was sad, I know. Please drop me a line or two to share your thoughts.** _


	9. Chapter 9

The Forodwaith Awakens

Not before battle, when gauging the size and strength of the enemy, nor after, when gazing upon death and destruction, had Legolas ever felt like this: such anguish as could rock his very soul. To know that she had been within his grasp, but that he had lost his lady out of his own sheer stupidity; to know that the damage was irrevocable - this was more dreadful than anything he had known. And then there was the emptiness and the longing. He would never engage in the physical expression of his love for her. It was nearly unbearable.

Legolas ran to the forest just east of the palace and there spoke of his grief to the trees. But he sensed that even they looked upon him in anger. Eventually he found a forgiving willow who offered him a resting place among his roots. Legolas succumbed to a fitful sleep and awoke with the rising sun. He was covered in a blanket of leaves that protected him from the morning dew.

"Thank you, old friend," he murmured and the willow's lower branches swayed. A single leaf fell from the tree into Legolas' outstretched hand. The leaf had crude markings, as if etched by bark. It resembled script and Legolas cried out, "Of course! I must write her a letter!"

So he headed back to the palace and sought paper and ink.

* * *

The night had not been long enough to assuage Lady Narya's vexation. She spent the whole of the next day confined to her room processing her feelings, many of which she did not understand. It was now clear that her disappointment came from false hope. What did she really know about Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood? Aside from the legend, what did she know of the real elf? Next to nothing, she had to admit. And in her limited acquaintance with him she had experienced intense anger, embarrassment, irritation, and wounded pride –all negative emotions. So how could she have been so naïve as to hope for his love?

She developed several theories to answer that question. Could she have been blinded by his beauty? No! She refused to believe she was that shallow. Then could she have been led astray by the sensations of the little liberties he had taken with her? Impossible! That would degrade her to the ranks of a wanton, she who prided herself in being the very model of propriety. Then why was she willing to give him her heart? He certainly had not said or done anything to deserve such a treasure.

But she could not doubt that the Valar had been watching. She felt their presence in the garden, she felt their blessing of the union. Was it their will that she should accept his hand? Narya remembered his cruel words about her mother and she felt new stabbings in her chest. Her eyes pooled with tears as images of her mother filled her mind. Narya's memories of her mother were very limited. She was so young when her mother died. She only remembered her wide, kind eyes and her soft, loving touch. She remembered her kisses and lullabies. But above all, she remembered her sadness. Narya wondered if she was finally happy. She wondered if Mandos had united her with her firstborn. And she wondered when her mother and brother would find their way to Valinor.

Narya heaved in distress and cried earnestly now, seeking the same relief last night's tears had brought her. And in the onslaught she heard it again. It was a faint cry, an invitation from the sea. And like the first time she heard it, she grew afraid. Narya immediately dried her tears, and the calling stopped. She knew what it was. Her father had told her about it. It started faint and weary, but grew with time and grief, until it became a power so irresistible it had to be obeyed. Narya attempted to distract her thoughts by going out to her balcony for some fresh afternoon air.

Just before sunset Narya heard a great commotion. Lyneth burst through her doors crying out in rapture, "My Lady, your brother Arvellon is here!"

"Where?" cried Narya, all grief forgotten. "Where is he?"

"He is ascending! Quickly! We must dress you."

The eleths flew into a kerfuffle and within minutes Narya was dressed. She closed the door on the chaos that was now her room and stepped into her sitting room. Moments later there was an animated knock and Arvellon burst through the door. Happy was Lyneth to witness that loving encounter. Brother and sister embraced as Lyneth retired to her rooms.

"By the Valar, little sister, you have given us a scare!" he bellowed and dropped Narya from his bear hug. Arvellon was larger than life, a big oaf of an elf who knew not how to be gentle. With brows knit and curiosity burning in his eyes, he asked, "What is wrong? Our brother is beside himself with worry. Alas! He could not be spared from our regiment."

Narya suddenly felt silly at having written her letter. "Nothing is wrong. I was just homesick. I am very sorry to have inconvenienced you, brother. But it is so good to see you. And how does Arveldir fare?"

Arvellon smiled slyly and announced, "He is madly in love with a Mirkwood eleth! But I beg you, tell him not that I spoiled his surprise. He wanted to tell you himself!"

"I can hardly believe it! And who may this eleth be, I wonder?" Narya was truly surprised that their pragmatic elder brother had finally fallen.

Arvellon's smile faded as if he suddenly remembered something and quickly began, "I'm sorry, I cannot stay. I bring urgent tidings to the king, but I would not be easy until I had first seen you." He roughly cupped her cheek with his large hand. "The counsel is assembling as we speak, so I must go."

"And what is the nature of your tidings?" asked Narya worried.

"I wish I could tell you not to worry, sister, but we are at the brink of war."

"War?" cried Narya in dismay. "But how? The war to end all wars has passed. And we were victorious."

"Yes, but at the Lord Elrond's request, we have been building a wall with watchtowers along the border of the Forodwaith."

"The Northern Waste," mused Narya, "the beginning of all evils on Middle Earth."

"Yes, it is believed that many fell things still abide there. And we have been keeping a diligent watch. These ten years all has been quiet. But as of late something has awakened in the deep."

"What has awakened?" she asked with a sudden chill.

"We do not know. But we spied a battalion of exiles sneaking in. King Thranduil feels that we are at the brink of war. He has sent messengers to all our kingdoms requesting an army."

"A mustering," she said in a daze.

"Yes."

"Then let us not delay any longer. We must go swiftly to the king," she said and brother and sister made their way to the throne room.


	10. Chapter 10

**A Worthy Captain**

The moon had nearly set when the last members of the Council arrived. A restless air filled King Aragorn's war room as the nobles took their positions. With the King's permission, Lady Narya took a seat among the wives. She surreptitiously glanced at Legolas every now and then. He was engrossed at the map, developing battle plans and strategies. She noted that others deferred to his opinions and sought his council.

"I am greatly troubled," confessed Eowyn softly, bringing Narya's attention to her immediate companions. Despite the worry on her brow, the White Lady of Rohan glowed with the beauty of a mortal woman with child. She continued, "If there is indeed a battle, Faramir will not stay behind. And this time, I cannot go…"

"Do not make yourself anxious, my Lady," soothed Arwen in a gentle voice. "The Valar will protect our husbands, true Captains of the West."

"And my brother," continued Eowyn with growing distress. "He is only lately married. He was so happy at the wedding. Shall I never again rejoice at the light of his face?"

Arwen glanced at Narya as if bidding her help. And Narya assured, "Of course, you shall, my Lady! Just imagine the happy day when you show him your son, a mighty Prince of Ithillien in the likeness of his uncle."

Eowyn smiled at the encouraging thought and sighed, "That would please Eomer greatly."

"You must never lose hope," added Arwen warmly.

"Thank you, my Queen," said Eowyn reverently. Long passed were the days in which she felt embarrassed in Arwen's presence. As was her graceful nature, Arwen had never mentioned Eowyn's infatuation with Aragorn and they had steadily built a true friendship. Eowyn wiped a stray tear off her cheek and laughed, "Please, forgive me, Lady Narya. I am quite out of my element. Until six months ago, the daughter of the House of Eorl had never known a tear!"

Narya smiled and said, "The slayer of the Witch-king of Angmar has been vanquished by her unborn child!"

The ladies laughed quietly and then sat in attention when the Council formally began. Arvellon was asked to relate his message. He stood up in the middle of the room and the thick silence before he spoke chilled Narya's blood.

"My King, Captains of the West, Master Dwarf, and my Lord Legolas."

At the mention of the name _Legolas_ Narya felt her cheeks redden. She stole a glance at him and he was also looking at her. Their eyes locked for what seemed an eternity and he looked away. He was wearing the haughty mask that Narya hated.

Arvellon continued his delivery with a splendor and dignity that made Narya's heart want to burst with pride: "King Thranduil has sent a delegation of my brothers to all our kingdoms on Middle Earth to muster a war-host to the Forodwaith where an ancient malice has awoken. I will now, my Lords, relate the events that have led to our suspicions and understanding of the situation."

"After the War of the Ring, the wise lord Elrond advised King Thranduil to guard the Northern Wastes. As you well know, that terrible land is the ancient dwelling of the Vala who turned to darkness. After many wars and griefs untold, this Vala was finally chained by mighty Tulkas, and there he must remain, forever imprisoned in the outer void. But in his envy and lust for power, he had given life to many evils. Orcs he created to mock the Eldar, men he corrupted against the will of Illuvatar, and even some of the maiar he turned, who in their fallen state became belrogs, dragons, spiders, and other disgusting creatures. First among these was Sauron, principal lieutenant, whom we destroyed in the War of the Ring, along with most of these fell beings. But the Lord Elrond feared that Middle Earth was not yet cleansed."

"Therefore, King Thranduil summoned a host of men and elves to build a wall along the Forodwaith and to stand guard as watchtowers and vigils for the safety of Middle Earth. Into this host my brother Arveldir and I, sons of Cirdan the Shipwright, Lord of the Falas, have sworn our life and our loyalty."

"The wall was completed on year 5 of the New Age and since then several villages have formed along its length. Thus some of the watchtowers and vigils have become vassals of King Thranduil. My excellent brother is one such lord, and alas! Calamity has struck his people. One fateful day, something akin to the black breath scaled the wall and spread throughout his land. Many elves and men succumbed to its power, so the land was evacuated. Very soon afterwards, the wall was breached and a great host of men passed into the Forodwaith, as if answering to some commanding call. King Thranduil acted immediately, and so I am here before you this night."

The room became agitated after Arvellon's speech as the Council reacted to the sinister tidings. Everyone was quiet once again when Legolas spoke, "Master Arvellon, royal friend, I thank you and your brother for your service and for your loyalty."

"No thanks are required, my Lord," said Arvellon sincerely. "My love is freely given."

His words made Legolas glance at Narya, wishing she would give him her love freely.

"Who are these men, the ones who entered the Forodwaith?" Aragorn's question brought Legolas back to reality.

"Men of Harad, Easterlings, and Variags, my Lord. Several thousand strong."

"Traitors," said Aragorn bitterly. "What is to be done? What say you, Legolas?"

Legolas lifted his brow in surprise at the sudden question, but then he returned to his dignified expression. And that's when Narya realized it: the proud mask was his way of dealing with fear and insecurity.

In a clear steady voice Legolas replied, "I ride at dawn."

"Then I shall ride with you!" said Aragorn rising to his feet. "Under your flag and banners, my Lord, Prince of Mirkwood."

"As will I!" said Master Gimli.

"And I," said Faramir.

"And I," chanted Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amrath.

One by one each member of the Council rose to join the alliance, a mighty war-host under Prince Legolas. Stunned, Legolas finally rose to his feet and accepted his new role. That day his heart changed within him. He became Captain of the worthiest of men.


	11. Chapter 11

**Fare Thee Well, My Love**

"Have you seen the Lady Narya?" asked Legolas grabbing a busy attendant by the arm.

"Nay, my Prince. I am sorry," he hurriedly said and ran off into the crowd to attend to his duties.

'Where could she be?' thought Legolas worried that he would not get a chance to speak with her before leaving. In his continued search he passed by the inner courtyard and headed back to the war room. Arwen and Aragorn were in the courtyard speaking softly.

"What did you see, my love?" asked Aragorn almost impatiently. He hooked his finger under her chin, gently urging her to meet his intense stare.

"I know not what it means, Aragorn, but it frightens me," she closed her eyes and tears squeezed out of the corners.

"Arwen, it grieves me to cause you pain, but we are out of time. I must know exactly what you saw."

"It has been years since I receive a vision. I am unpracticed. And without Ada here… Most of it has already vanished."

Aragorn sighed deeply and pulled her into his warm embrace. "Perhaps you do not wish to see it, my love. But you must try. For me."

Arwen returned her gaze upon him, retrieving strength from the loving expression in his eyes. Gathering courage, she reopened that window into her mind. She spoke slowly, "You were hard pressed in battle, bloodied and desperate." She shuttered and tried to pull away, but Aragorn held her firmly in his strong arms. She continued, "You could not reach him, though you tried. Great was your distress when you saw the creature approach him!"

"Who? Who is the creature?"

"I know not. Try as I might I am not permitted to see him."

"What happened next?"

"The Bow of Lothlorien sang! Arrow after arrow pierced its target. The creature thrashed, but it would not fall. Finally there were no more arrows in his quiver, and Legolas ran towards the creature in open combat. And then the vision ends."

They were silent for a few moments, then Aragorn said, "This is very disturbing, indeed. Oh, that Gandalf were here!"

Arwen searched for his lips and kissed him deeply making him momentarily forget his distress.

"My Lord," interrupted Faramir. "I am sorry, but we must go now."

"Thank you, Faramir," said Aragorn. The steward bowed and exited.

"Aragorn," she sighed.

"I know what is in your heart. It is in mine also. I promise to return to you. And you must promise me something."

"Whatever you should desire, my love, I shall do."

"Please see to it that these ridiculous ladies from the Choosing are safely returned to their homes."

They laughed merrily and Arwen said, "It will be difficult with the men off to war, but it shall be done."

"And take care of Lady Narya."

"I will."

He kissed her once more and swiftly departed.

* * *

Legolas was told that Lady Narya was with her brother at the armory. His nervousness increased with each step that brought him closer. Everything he wished to say to her was in the letter in his pocket. But he would need to tell her something, something to appease her, so that she wouldn't rip his letter to pieces without reading it. His thoughts were interrupted by her laughter. He stopped by the door and listened with a smile.

"You are incorrigible, Arvellon! Our future sister cannot be so irksome."

"Oh, but she is! Mark my words: You will have your first disagreement with her upon fifteen minutes of conversation."

"But I do not care, as long as she loves our dear brother, and as long as Arveldir is happy."

"That he is," said Arvellon.

In the distance Legolas heard the mustering horn and decided that he needed to hasten. He stepped in and cleared his voice. The dreaded effect was immediate. A tense silence filled the air, but undeterred he greeted them with a bow, "My Lady. Royal Friend."

"My Lord," said Arvellon sensing that the Prince had not come here looking for him.

"May I have a word with your noble sister, Master Arvellon?"

Arvellon and Narya communicated silently. She nodded her consent and he said, "Very well. I shall be just outside." He exited and waited impatiently. Why did Prince Legolas want to speak with his little sister? Why were his eyes full of repentance? Why was she so cautious? Obviously, there was something going on there. And whatever that "something" was had been the cause of Narya's wanting to go home. He would get to the bottom of this immediately.

Filled with a sudden dread, Legolas became fascinated with the weapons on the table next to them. Lady Narya watched him silently. She refused to be the first to speak or to assuage his discomfort in any way. She took a moment to observe him from head to foot. He had changed into his green and brown apparel of the Woodland Realm. A finely chiseled breastplate covered his chest and shoulders, complimenting his strong, lean frame. Slung across his back were the Bow of Lothlorien and quiver. At his side hung a small archer's shield and a long knife with an ivory handle. And his knee-high leather boots were perfectly polished. She was well aware that a formidable warrior stood before her.

Narya's eye roamed leisurely back to his face and she realized she was trapped by his own blue eyes. He had caught her ogling him! But he did not allow a smug expression to form on his face. He was walking on thin ice as it was. So he didn't need to further exacerbate the situation with one of his infuriating little jokes or comments. He took a deep breath, stepped closer to her and began his apology, "My Lady, I have been looking for a way to make amends, but I have realized that it is impossible. There is no possible forgiveness for my abominable words and behavior. Nonetheless, I must still say to you, as Elbereth is my witness, I am truly sorry."

"My Lord," she said with a trembling voice. She suddenly felt the need to put him at ease. He was going to battle! He could not be distracted with thoughts of her. "Your kind apology is accepted and I would ask you to think no more of me in this dangerous time."

"Forgive me, my Lady, but what you ask is impossible. I will not repeat to you the feelings which you found so offensive, but I will be so bold as to say that the very thought of you is what will get me through this."

There was silence and she blushed as his words sunk in. Then he said with regret. "Alas! I must go. That was the second trumpet blast. May I impose upon your privacy one last time and ask you to read this letter?" He placed the letter in her hand allowing his fingers to linger on hers.

"It would mean so much to me," he almost begged. And since he saw her expression soften, he added his characteristic mirth, "You know, my Lady, I may never return. Consider it my dying wish."

The smile broke out of its own accord, illuminating her features, and she chided, "That is a terrible thing to say! You are most manipulative!"

He laughed cheerfully and said, "As they say, all's fair in love and war. And now I must go."

He was leaving and for the life of her she didn't want him to go. "Wait!" she said. "Your quiver is not full. You need more arrows." She picked up a handful of arrows and placed them in his hand. This time she allowed her fingers to touch his. "I believe you forgot to retrieve some of your arrows during our archery lesson."

"Nay, lady Narya, I did not forget. I left them because I did not wish to dismount Arod. I was in heaven with your arms around me." She blushed furiously now, but could not turn away from his suggestive glance. He finally said, "Farewell, my love. And if I shan't return, I bid you every happiness. No one deserves it more."

And she fully expected it when he took her hand and kissed it softly.

* * *

In the open field just beyond the palace walls a great host of men of Gondor made ready for battle. The Captains hurried to and fro giving their final instructions as lads and attendants saw to their orders. They were ants under the pale light of dawn. The neighing of horses and the clinking of mail filled the air. By the time all was ready, the sun had grown hot and bold.

Mighty Prince Legolas marshaled the troops. Swords and spears gleamed in the sun and unfurled banners danced in the breeze. Arod was restless under his master as he delivered his battle speech with a bold, clear voice that resonated through the battle lines:

"Riders of Gondor, men of the West, we ride now. We know not toward what we ride, but ride we must. We know not what fell creatures we shall meet at our journey's end, but meet them we must. We shall ride, we shall meet them, and we shall prevail because the dark things made by a lesser hand, the vile things that should not be, cannot prevail, for we are the Children of Iluvatar!"

Stirred to action, the men broke out in war cries. They surged forward full speed following their Captain. In mere minutes the field was emptied, the thundering of hooves died out, and the land grew ghastly silent.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Thank you for the kind reviews, for favoriting, and following. Enjoy the next chapter!**_

* * *

 **Revelations**

Late that night, in the privacy of her bed chamber, Lady Narya was afforded the first opportunity to read the Prince's letter. She slipped into her night dress and stirred the cinders to liven the fire. Then, gathering her legs beneath her on the armchair, she wrapped a thick shawl around her bare shoulders and gently unfolded the letter.

She took a moment to appreciate the ebb and flow of the beautifully written Sindarin characters, the work of a scholar. In her mind's eye she conjured the image of Legolas' last intense gaze. She had not been able to turn away from his eyes' gravitational pull. She smiled and started reading.

 _Dearest Lady Narya,_

 _I must begin this missive by first expressing my gratitude. It is to the credit of your excellent and noble character that you have condescended to reading this letter, even while holding its writer in contempt. Next I must put your mind at ease: Be not alarmed, dear Madame, of having to withstand a blundered renewal of the feelings I so inadequately expressed to you last night. Rest assured that such feelings will never again escape my unworthy lips…_

(So he wrote this letter the day after the garden scene. "Woe unto that day!" she thought. It had been nearly forgotten with the urgency of the mustering. But now she was reminded of her wrath and sadness. Contempt, yes! Unworthy, indeed!)

 _And lastly, I must express my deepest regrets and apologies, not only for my words in the garden (they cannot too soon be forgotten), but also for many other improprieties on my part. Since the very beginning of our acquaintance, you have borne my loathsome company with such a demeanor and lady-like manners as to forever secure my respect and admiration…_

(She smiled now as a thought crossed her mind. Each of her encounters with the Prince had involved some form of insult followed by the most effective apology! Surely Legolas could be saved from the agony of forming eloquent apologies if he would endeavor to make himself agreeable in the first place.)

 _After such a preamble, I shall now communicate to you some information that may prove uncomfortable or perhaps even painful. For this, too, I am sorry, but justice would not allow me to withhold this truth from she who most deserves its revelation._

 _I have read the letter your excellent father sent under the strictest confidentiality to Aragorn on the eve of Gwaihir's visit. You will ask how it came to be within my reach, and I will answer that Aragorn holds you in very high regard, and that his action stems from a genuine desire to do good. That said, I shall share with you the contents of the letter._

 _Your father expressed his heart-felt fear that you should hear the call to Valinor. It is his greatest desire to shield you from it. He is under the belief that distance from the sea will prolong your fate, so he sent you to Gondor with the Choosing as a pretext._

 _My Lady, please do not be vexed. Aragorn wanted me to know this because I too have long lived with the same noose to my neck. During the War of the Ring, Gandalf delivered a message to me from the Lady Galadriel. It was the prophecy of my doom._

 _Legolas Greenleaf long under the tree,_

 _In joy thou hast lived, Beware the Sea!_

 _If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore,_

 _Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more._

 _Ever since that fateful day, I have lived in a dreadful expectation of the calling. And that is why Aragorn revealed this private information to me –he believed that I could commiserate with your struggle and that we could help each other. Please understand him, Lady Narya. You may hate me, but not Aragorn! He is as noble as he is good-natured and just._

 _But I should tell you more. Unbeknownst to Aragorn, and indeed to any other soul on Middle Earth, except now your own, I have already heard the call of the sea. It happened at the most unexpected moment: during the victory celebrations immediately after the War. At first it was no more than a faint murmur, like the splash of small waves in low tide. Now it is a bit stronger, and some day it will become a roaring storm, irresistible and terrible. But I shall not allow it to reach that point. Since I cannot fathom a world in which Aragorn has ceased to exist, I plan to depart with your father to Valinor soon after Aragorn's passing. That gives me a little over a century of this life._

 _I will admit that this reality has brought out the worst in me. I have of late been focusing solely on the pursuit of pleasures, instead of the refinement of my character or the well-being of my people. My friends, and more recently, you, have made me realize that I must change._

 _My Lady, I have told you all this so that you may never feel alone in your struggles. If some day our paths should cross again, and I pray to the Valar that they do, I would become a source of strength and comfort to you. I shall work hard to improve my character, so that you may accept me as a friend, if at all possible. How I dream of the day when your eye may behold me in good favor! Forgive me –again– if I presume too much._

 _Yours truly,_

 _Legolas_

* * *

 _ **Any thoughts? Drop me a line or two!**  
_


	13. Chapter 13

**The Wildfire**

As the weeks passed quietly by and a new routine set in, Lady Narya's wrath was quelled. Her new duties as the Queen's confidant and companion kept her busy during the day. But every afternoon, just before sunset, she set out on horseback to enjoy a private moment. During these rides she dealt with the thoughts that still weighed heavily on her mind: the gross infringement of her privacy, her father's guise, Aragorn's indiscretion, and Legolas'- well, his entire irksome existence.

But for some time now, between the beauty of the golden fields of Gondor and the feeling of freedom provided by her swift mount, her anger subsided, reason took over, and her thoughts were made new. Surely, her father had done what he thought was best. She could now even feel pity for his worrisome state. But why had he not spoken with her? She had a right to know! On the other hand, perhaps knowing would have been worse. As Legolas said, it would have filled her with a dreadful expectation, like having a noose around her neck. And she could even start to feel pity for Legolas –but, no! She would not, because pity would lead to forgiveness.

As for Aragorn, she could finally understand his motives. Nothing in his words or manner could be used to prove that he harbored ill will towards her. On the contrary, Aragorn had been nothing but kind to her. Therefore, she must conclude that he had been moved by kindness and by the desire to do good.

And that brought her right back to Legolas. Her initial reaction to the letter was that Legolas had sought her humiliation to avenge himself, that he could not stand her rejection, spoiled and haughty as he was. But she quickly dismissed these ideas. If that were the case, why would he reveal such a secret? It gave her a heady sensation to know such an intimate detail, indeed to be the only soul on Middle Earth to know it.

She sighed. Yes, his apology was accepted. But as for his offer of friendship, one evil still stood in the way. How could he have been so unfeeling towards her mother's plight? Unless there was an explanation… But surely there was no possible explanation for such ungentlemanly behavior!

Such were the thoughts of the Lady when her keen eyes focused on an anomaly in the distant landscape. Were those smoke stacks rising into the sky? She galloped towards it.

She soon came upon a hill above the village square and was immediately hit by the smell of poisonous gases. A wildfire was roaring in the marketplace. Her steed tore into the cobblestone plaza and Narya pulled him into a neighing halt. "What has happened here?" she called out.

Old men, women, and children were frantically trying to put out the fire, but it only grew angrier. Narya dismounted and ran to the assembly line of water buckets. Heaving and weary, she continued working until her muscles twitched from the exertion. She was beginning to despair, and cried, "Elbereth! Help us!"

And by the grace of the Valar, it started to rain. With renewed spirits, bucket after bucket of water was thrown on the fire. It roared like a lame beast, until it dwindled, and eventually died.

"Well done! Well done!" she said breathlessly before collapsing covered in soot. She caught her breath and asked the villagers, "How was this fire started?"

"It was the bad men, my Lady," answered a ruddy youth.

"What bad men?" she asked in alarm.

This time the boy's mother answered, "There were about a dozen. They asked us where our men were. They laughed when we did not answer. Then they took our trade goods by force. They started the fire and promised to return. Oh, my Lady! What are we to do? We are defenseless without our men!"

The villagers despaired and Narya cried out, "We are not defenseless! The mighty Valar are with us! And are we not able-bodied? Our men are serving, and we must tend to ourselves!" They lifted their heads as she spoke. "Do not despair! I shall tell the Queen immediately and we shall devise a plan. Be courageous and strong! And do not let your hearts grow dark with fear." She mounted and rode to the palace with all haste.

* * *

Well past midnight, the scouts from the Queen's Guard returned. They had been successful and were eager to make their report. Their booted footsteps on the marble-floored hall stirred the three ladies to wakefulness.

"My Queen," they bowed low and began, "We found the vagrants' camp. They are on Jorah's Field."

"Jorah's Field? Not ten miles from town," worried Arwen.

"Yes, too close for comfort. There are 300 by our count."

"Three hundred!" gasped Eowyn. "With only 50 of the Queen's Guard, we are outnumbered."

"We are not," said Narya, bathed, changed, and her wounds tended. "The villagers can fight."

"If it comes down to it, then they must," said Meryn, Captain of the Guard.

"Who are these people, Lord Meryn?" asked Arwen.

"We are unsure, my Lady. But their skin is olive-colored and their hair black as night."

"Easterlings," said Eowyn. "Without a doubt."

"That is our guess as well. Wanderers and nomads. No doubt, they heard of the men's departure and have come to sack the villages."

Arwen became agitated, so she rose to her feet and paced. "What would you advise, Lord Meryn?"

"We cannot meet them in open battle. We should move the villagers to the citadel. They cannot scale our walls."

"But what about their homes?" cried Arwen. "Their animals and livelihood. All will be sacked."

"Better that they lose their possessions and not their lives, my Lady," said Lord Meryn. "Homes and villages can be rebuilt. Fields can be replanted. All can be made new as long as we are alive."

"Of course, you're right," said Arwen. "Let us not waste another minute. When do you think they will attack?"

"At sunset. They are now quite drunk. They'll sleep in, have a good meal, then strike without worry or care."

"Then we must evacuate the people now," decided Arwen. "Please see to it, Lord Meryn."

"As you wish." He bowed and retreated, his men close behind.

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading!**_


	14. Chapter 14

**A Red Dawn Rises**

"Our journey has been too quiet," complained Gimli. "We're nearly there and my axe is as clean as when we set out."

Legolas eyed him superstitiously.

"What?" he asked feigning ignorance.

"Even you know better than to seek evil," said a disapproving Legolas.

"I know no such thing," laughed Gimli, "having surpassed your body count in every battle."

"Wishful thinking, my friend. Just review the annals of history and you shall stand corrected. Not tall, I'm afraid, but corrected."

"Humph! Who really believes what is written in history books? No, laddie, the most accurate account is given by eyewitnesses, such as myself. And do not worry, I have told my fair share of folks the absolute truth!"

"I see that the gall of Dwarves is only surpassed by their greed, and perhaps…" Legolas made a show of sniffing Gimli and continued, "Yes, their stench."

"Bring your pretty nose to my axe, and your pointy ears as well!"

Aragorn smiled as Elf and Dwarf continued their verbal jousting.

"Are they always like this?" asked Faramir.

"No," replied Aragorn with a twinkle in his eye. "They usually argue over whose food is better. But apparently they are both wrong, according to the hobbits."

Their mirth was interrupted by the scouts' urgent approach.

"My Lords!" shouted Master Arvellon. On his swift mount he was the first to reach the Captains and breathlessly blurted out, "An enemy host approaches. Orcs and men. Five thousand strong. They shall reach us by nightfall."

"Were they alerted to your presence?" asked Legolas urgently.

"Nay, my Lord," Arvellon proudly answered. "My men and I escaped unnoticed."

"Well done, Arvellon."

"It is exactly as you predicted, Legolas," said Aragorn with admiration. "They must have arrived by the eastern sea and are now making their way to their new master."

"We shall make camp here for the night," decided Legolas glancing at the surrounding countryside.

"Nay, my Lord," objected Imrahil. "It is too exposed. We could not possibly defend ourselves from a frontal attack."

Legolas remained unaffected. Imrahil looked at Aragorn for aid, then at Faramir and Gimli. They trusted Legolas implicitly. The Prince of Dol Amroth brought his curious gaze back to Legolas, whose calm demeanor communicated assurance.

"Make sure the camp is ready by sunset," instructed Legolas.

"As you wish," said Imrahil. He hastily departed with Faramir to carry out the orders.

The last of the sunset hues were gradually swallowed up by darkness. All was still except for the fires that burned steadily in the middle of the camp. In the bright, warm glow, shadows danced upon the flag and insignia of Gondor etched into the officers' tents. The curtains of the King's tent swayed in the cool evening breeze. And far across the open field, hundreds of pitched tents slept under the flowing starlight. A few random sentinels sat slumped over in their chairs.

Creeping movements like those of a thousand cockroaches became evident atop the dark promontory beyond the field. "Look!" whispered an orc captain espying the camp. "Drunken maggots fast asleep!"

"Oh, such spoils!" replied his avaricious companion.

The leader of the battalion was a man of Harad, covered from head to toe in a black headdress and robe. He wore a breast plate and wrist guards of pure gold, and he held his magnificent sword before him, eager to wield his fatal blows. Gauging the camp, he estimated that the enemy host was half the size of his own army. There was a sudden movement in one of the tents. His finely outlined eyes squinted into slits as he smiled behind his face covering. He decisively raised his sword high above his head, and the battalion slithered down the slope.

As they approached, he blew a mighty horn. His army screamed an evil response and out of the darkness they burst forth like rivers from a broken dam. They charged toward the encampment, quickly advancing. They fought through the defense-works into the camp and attacked every tent. They drove sword, knife, spear, and pike into everything that moved until they realized that they were slaying sheep, not men. In bewilderment they halted their advance.

"They're not here!" cried the orcs. "They're not here!"

"But they left their goods!" they sneered.

They immediately turned their attention to sacking and plundering the camp. The Haradrim commander screamed out his orders, but they refused to rejoin the ranks.

Suddenly, a thousand meters behind the camp, a line of lights lit up the woodlands. Legolas' commanding voice cried out, "Archers! Ready! Release!"

The enemy heard a hum akin to soft rain. Horror of impending doom filled their eyes as fire arrows descended upon them. Many were pierced through and died instantly. Others howled savagely as they were burned alive. All fell into a frenzy, trapped as they were in the camp. Many orcs slew their own companions to clear a flight path or to steal the loot. The second deadly shower of arrows fell upon them as the man of Harad desperately gave the order, "Retreat! Retreat!"

In the distance, Legolas commanded, "Leave none alive!" The united war cry of thousands of men made the enemy's blood curdle. Legolas ordered, "Cavalry! Charge!" Powerful hooves pounded the earth making it quake. Seconds later, "Foot soldiers! Charge!" And finally, "Archers! Charge!"

The cruel sounds of warfare filled the night as the allied banners of Mirkwood and Gondor prevailed. The sun rose blood-red melting away the morning mists, to reveal a sea of slaughtered enemies, both orcs and men. Vapors exuding from their mangled bodies filled the land with a foul stench. There they would lay, without honor or burial, vile carrion to be devoured by bird and beast.

The victors scurried about the field in search of their wounded and dead. Anduril, Flame of the West, gleamed in the sunlight as Aragorn mercifully put to death any of the race of men who were still agonizing. He came upon the Haradrim commander who was mortally wounded in the abdomen. He coughed violently, choking on his blood. Aragorn knelt beside him and gently lifted his head. The enemy captain felt relief and nodded.

"You should not have died like this," lamented Aragorn. He looked deep into the black eyes as the Haradrim's spirit left the irises. With a sigh Aragorn laid his head back on the ground and muttered, "Rest now."

Legolas looked upon the field in disgust and uttered a Sindarin chant into the wind.

"What did he say?" asked Imrahil.

"He is calling in the vultures to feast," replied Gimli with satisfaction.

"Who is this mighty Elf that can command the skies?" inquired Imrahil in awe.

"Greatly favored by the Valar is he," answered Gimli proudly.

The captains were silent when Legolas met them. He inquired after their losses. Aragorn joined the group and they decided how to proceed. When the meeting adjourned Aragorn pulled Legolas aside and said, "The men must be addressed. Will you do it, or should I?"

Legolas looked upon the army. They were weary and bloodied with searching eyes like children. Legolas felt pity for them, and his heart was filled with fatherly love.

"I think I begin to understand now, Aragorn," he said. "Of being a father to a people. Thank you. I will speak to them."

With Aragorn by his side, Legolas gathered the army to him and blessed them. He exulted their bravery and skill. And he lifted their spirits with the promise of strong drink, exquisite food, and a place to rest in King Thranduil's halls at journey's end. Finally he ordered the removal of the wounded and the burial of the victorious dead. By high noon the war party departed to the north and to the west, with a host of scavenging birds circling the sky high above the abandoned camp.


	15. Chapter 15

**The Deep Breath before the Plunge**

Ladies Arwen and Narya were saddled and ready to depart with the Queen's Guard, but Lord Meryn resisted them vehemently.

"My Lady," he beseeched Arwen in a final attempt, "My men and I have pledged our lives to protect you. Do you not understand? Our lives are forfeit if anything should happen to you! I beg you to remain behind the safety of these impregnable walls until the danger is over."

"Lord Meryn," started Arwen with an unwavering tone. "I am the mother of my husband's people and their beloved Queen. This night, as they fear for the lives of their children, you will ask them to forsake their homes and all their worldly possessions. I cannot fail them. I insist on accompanying you and your men. It is my wish and my bidding."

Lord Meryn sighed in defeat and angrily ordered his knights to fall into battle formation with the ladies at the rear guard. The company swiftly flew across the hilly countryside to the outskirts of the village. Narya exerted herself to keep up with Arwen and the knights. They were far superior riders, but she was familiar with the terrain. If any were afraid of her being unseated, they were impressed by her skill as she directed her steed to turn sharply here, to jump over a stream there, to find a sinuous path down a steep, rocky hill in the black of night.

Finally they penetrated the village square, with Narya right at their heels. She coughed as she swallowed the acrid smoke still rising from the site of the extinguished fire. Lord Meryn headed to the bell tower to ring the battle call and summon the people. But a great many villagers were already in congress. The waning moon cast its dull light over old men, women, and children. They were helping some shepherd boys to reign in a flock of camels and mules.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Lord Meryn above the hoof-beats on cobblestone as the Guard gathered in behind him.

"All hail the Queen!" cried a villager as soon as Arwen passed under the archway, and the people bowed low.

"Do not burden yourselves with formalities," instructed Arwen, "for we must act with all haste. You, there, please answer the Lord Meryn's inquiries."

A shepherd boy came forward and Lord Meryn asked, "What is your name, boy?"

"Gareth, son of Garren." He could not be more than twelve years old, but he betrayed no sign of childlike shyness or uncertainty.

"Gareth. You bare a mighty name. Tell me what has happened here."

"My Lord, my friends and I snuck into the enemy camp and we have taken their mounts while they were drunk." And as if to give testimony, a camel brayed from the huddled flock.

The Scouts of the Queen's Guard immediately departed, as Lord Meryn spat out, "Senseless children! When was this done?"

"They have only just arrived," answered a woman.

Lord Meryn hastily gathered his captains and they consulted together in urgent but hushed tones as the wide-eyed villagers watched.

"It is unavoidable now," said Andred. "Fleeing to safety is no longer an option. The enemy shall overrun us in the open fields."

Lucan added, "Either we meet them head on, or we hold our ground in defense."

Cedric the Elder commented, "And cover of night has eluded us. Dawn shall break within the hour."

"At three miles per hour," informed Merovac, "they shall be here in four hours, perhaps five in their drunken state."

Lost as he was in thought, Lord Meryn's eyes betrayed his uncertainty. He glanced upon his Queen, who was diligently at work soothing the villagers with words of encouragement.

"My lord," said Andred. "What is thy counsel?"

Now, with a battle hardened expression on his brow, he answered, "Four hours, my friends. That is the time we have to prepare our defenses and to arm these women and children. Four hours! May the Valar have mercy on our souls."

* * *

All was ready and the villagers were in place as the gradual light of day filled the silk sky.

"I must address the people," whispered Arwen to Lady Narya. "But I know not what to say. I am nearly spent and a sudden dread has overpowered me. Oh, that Aragorn were here! That I might see him one last time."

"Look!" said Narya signaling to the horizon. "The sun rises red. Blood has been spilt this night. And now the fight comes to Gondor. Tell the people it is their destiny to fight and to prevail."

"Yes!" said Arwen. "Yes, that is what I will say."

"But you must first believe it, my Lady."

Arwen closed her eyes in silent prayer to the Valar and gathered her courage and strength. She drew her sword and climbed to the battlement where she delivered her speech. From their hiding places all the people heard her sure, clear voice. And those who could look upon her face believed that she had been transformed into an angel, such was the beauty of the Evenstar.

"My loving people, look to the East as the sun rises red, stained with the blood of fallen enemies in battle. And now, children of Gondor, it is your turn to fight and to win! And here I stand among you to live or to die as one of you, for from this moment I call you _my husband's people_ no longer. No, from this day I call you my own!"

That very moment the fear of the people departed from their weary brow. Their hands tightened around their weapons. Their expression grew firm and determined. And with such a Queen by their side, all hope filled them with thoughts of victory.

They did not have to wait long. The marauders approached on foot from the Northern horizon. Disorderly and undisciplined, they resembled a mob more than an army. Narya heard the ring of their jeering and derision, and a sinking fear paralyzed her. The things they would do to her, and to these women and girls if captured! No! Such would not be her fate! She would first pierce her own heart in the very end, if it came to it. But would she have the courage to do it? She unsheathed her brother's dagger and remembered his words when gifting her with it.

"This is Thalin, the dauntless. He will never betray you as long as you command him in honor and in truth."

"Thalin," she muttered. "If I am not to make it through this day, then your duty lies here." She placed the edge over her heart on her beautiful breast. "Hence you shall send me to the Halls of Mandos where I shall be reunited with my beloved mother. This too is honorable and true."

When she felt at peace, Narya sheathed her blade and took up her long bow. She watched through a crack in the battlement wall as the merciless enemy approached.


	16. Chapter 16

**Gondor Lives!**

The Easterling marauders reached the stony field in front of the village square. They beheld the open marketplace and laughed at the feeble women's inability to even close the gates. Propelled by lust and greed they quickened their pace to a near run.

Lord Meryn and his company watched from behind the boulders, waiting, waiting. "Now!" he cried out. With mighty lungs, Lucan sounded the battle horn and it echoed terribly for miles and miles. Instantly, Cedric the Elder let his fire arrow fly. It struck the target and an explosion rang out. A long line of fire blazed across the field dividing the bewildered band of Easterlings in two.

"Left flank!" instructed Lord Meryn. "Attack!"

Ten mounted knights rode hard and tore through the petrified marauders.

"Right flank! Attack!"

Another ten rode to meet their companions. The half of the enemy on the other side of the fire could only watch in horror as their comrades were bludgeoned with knife, axe, spear, and flail. The knights turned their steeds around and retraced their path, killing the fleeing marauders and successfully dispersing them.

"Do not give chase!" ordered Lord Meryn. "To the village! Charge!"

The twenty and one rode hard toward the extremities of the fire to come upon the enemy on the other side. The enemy ran toward the open gates, both to flee from the riders and to attack in vengeance. As they approached, the other half of the Queen's Guard fired their arrows. The villagers on the battlements dropped heavy stones and projectiles upon them. The debris rammed through many skulls with a sickening crunch.

But those who survived the assault pushed through the open gates and kept charging. They met the Queen's Guard head on. Man to man combat ensued and they were hard pressed by the enemy's superior number. The sword fight was in earnest when Lord Meryn and his company finally arrived. The horses proved to be too mighty for the marauders and they fled.

From the battlement, Lady Narya shot arrow after arrow until her quiver was empty. She merely injured those she struck, for her arrows were not strong enough to kill. With a trembling hand, she unsheathed Thalin and waited for any Easterlings to approach. But none had climbed the battlement and the skirmish was over. The enemy fled into the wind. Narya found Arwen and they embraced in relief. Then they immediately tended to the nearby villagers.

Narya knelt beside a young boy whose bright eyes searched hers, "It is over," she said with a quiver in her voice. "Do not fear any longer."

"I wasn't afraid," he said plainly. "I knew you would protect me. You shoot your arrows just like the Lord Legolas."

Startled at the words, Narya met Arwen's glance and she smiled.

"My Lord, shall we give chase?" asked Andred.

"No!" replied Lord Meryn. "We shall now travel to the citadel as planned. They shall soon regroup, but perhaps not before we have reached safety."

"Very good, Sir," said the knight.

They were still speaking when another battle horn rang in the distance.

Arwen's face lit up and she called out, "That is an elf horn! Rivendell comes to our aid!"

The knights of the Queen's Guard climbed the battlement and looked on in relief as an army from Rivendell met the fleeing Easterlings and finished them off.

"Gondor lives!" cried a boy. The villagers rejoiced and hailed their Queen and her people.

Exhausted, yet unable to sleep after the day's roller coaster of emotions, Lady Narya put on her robe and slippers and went out to her balcony. Her keen senses picked up on the joyful sounds of victory. Music drifted in from the village and laughter resounded from the palace banquet hall as the knights of the Queen's Guard celebrated with the visiting elves.

Narya removed the bandages from her wounded hands and winced with pain. They were not yet healed. Tomorrow she would apply more _Athelas_. A memory invaded her thoughts and she smiled ruefully. Once upon a time Legolas had kissed the hurts on her hands. The exquisite sensation of his warm lips on her flesh still made her blush. Gazing at the stars, she wondered what he was doing right now. Then she smiled again because she knew exactly what he was doing. Though hundreds of miles away, he also was looking at the same night sky and he was thinking about her. She sweetly called out to Elbereth and implored, "Please, bring him back to me."

Thus ends Book One of _Pride and Legolas_.

* * *

 _ **Many thanks to you guys who followed Narya on this journey from start to finish!**_


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